Training for the Big Sur Marathon has been underway for a while now, and as such, I’ve decided to incorporate a little hill torture into my workout plan. Apparently this is just what youdo when you’re preparing to run Big Sur. You terrify yourself with BSIM race reports outlining the ecstasy and agony endured atop Hurricane Point, and then you find a road so steep it scratches the clouds to replicate those depths of human suffering firsthand.

Sounds like fun, eh? Well, I’m trying to do this training thing the right way this time. No bailing on long runs, no pretending to strength train, no telling myself bingeing on Nilla Wafers is the same thing as carbo-loading.

Hence last week, for the first time ever, I transported my body to the top of Tenth Street in Emmaus, Pa.—up the imposing, truck-resistant hill behind Runner’s World HQ—in a trudging manner semantically related to “running” (but potentially closer to the same genus and phylum as “crawling”).

It wasn't pretty. I tucked my head down, leaned into the hill, and found a steady rhythm. I tried to center my thoughts, employed my emergency mantra (chanting “pizza” ad infinitum), and gripped my inhaler for emotional comfort. I watched as my coworkers receded into the distance, leaving me to battle the climb alone. Honestly, I prefer it that way. No one needs to see (or hear) me in full “asthma warrior” mode.

After 1.25 miles, the climb let up, and I stopped to gather my remaining oxygen. Success. Well, sort of. The one thing I can say for my effort is that I never stopped to walk.

I also tried to use the advice in this article. I’m not sure any of it helped. I certainly made a concerted effort to “start easy” and “maintain good form,” but this is the part that gets me: “Schedule a hill run every seven to 14 days.”

…

That means I have to do Tenth Street again. Every week. No, every other week. That sounds much better.

On some level, I worry that this new hill torture plan will make me lose my simple love of running. After all, I’ve always preferred the freedom of winging it over any kind of structured training. You know, like a bird, clad in hundreds of dollars of GPS and neon compression gear.

On the other hand, I’m banking on the pay-off of a successful race at Big Sur. After all, there has to be some reason our site keeps doling out all this running advice. It probably works, right? I’m sure it works. Actually, I’ll find out if it works and report back.